Later that evening, Sante reached a hand toward me to grab the car door. I stepped out of the Mercedes Benz, and he smiled at me. Rarely did he drive, but his guards trailed us to the location. He’d also taken the extra step of buying out the restaurant for us to have it alone. The door of Catarina's Italian Restaurant opened, and we thanked the hostess who motioned for us to follow her to our table.
“Mr. and Mrs. Calabresi, we have your meal all set for you this evening.”
“Thank you, Delaney.”
“Would you like for me to pour your wine?'' She picked up the bottle from the ice bucket.
“Please.”
Delaney filled both glasses, then left us alone.
“This place is beautiful, Sante.”
“I’m glad you like the place.”
“Today has been great all around.”
“Glad you enjoyed spending my money.” I la
